Brand Me (Imagine Ink Book 2) (15 page)

She closed the door behind her and Michael scrubbed his hands down his face, not sure if he could survive a night with this woman, but damned if he wouldn’t welcome death to try. After noticing for the first time the dire condition of his hands, he raced to the kitchen sink to rid them of the blood and demolished bandage. After a good, but painful washing, he decided to take a whore bath in the sink so he wasn’t thoroughly disgusting. He stripped right there and bathed with a dishcloth and Dawn, taking a few extra cloths to dry himself adequately. He grabbed the first aid kit and rewrapped his cut hand, noting it was starting to look a little worse for wear, but he didn’t give a damn about his hand right now, unless it was deciding where to touch her body first.

Satisfied with his makeshift hygiene routine, Michael picked up his guitar, sat on the bed naked, and plucked out a few chords. They sounded all wrong and it hurt like a bitch because his hand couldn’t seem to do the job the way it did when it wasn’t filleted open. So he sat there with his hands in position but not playing and unmindfully, he began to sing. It wasn’t until Tori appeared in the bathroom doorway looking like a fucking angel, that he realized the song he had been singing.

“Jaded Heart,” by Dokken. It was kind of kismet; she was jaded after Richard.
Have I indeed found her too late,
he wondered? As he was about to get up off the bed and place his guitar in its stand, Tori was there, placing her hands on his, still engaged in the strings.

“I don’t want it to be, too late, I mean. The song? It will take me a while to trust, especially in compliments and affection, but I want to try with you. Every single thing Richard did had a motivation behind it, and none were for my benefit, so it won’t be easy for me. But, if you’re willing to be patient, then I’m willing to try.”

Fuck if Michael couldn’t get Roxy in her stand fast enough. Returning to Tori’s personal space calmed his spirit while exciting his soul. He took her face in his damaged hands and kissed her, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, but he wanted to pour every nuance of every emotion he was feeling onto her lips, and into her body and soul before reluctantly breaking the oral assault to ask a question he felt he couldn’t live without knowing for another second.

“What’s your full name?”

A slightly puzzled look crossed her face before she responded. “Torionna Krystle-Carrington Reid. Don’t ask, my mom loved Dynasty and my dad never wins an argument. What about you? Please tell me you have an embarrassing middle name too.”

“I always thought I did, for my mom, anyway. I felt like it was a reminder of dad’s indiscretion, but now that I know the truth, I love it. It’s Illanipi. Michael Illanipi Brande. I’m going to have to look into it and see what it means one day. But for now, I have much better things to look into.” He kissed her deeply before pulling back slightly.

“As for wanting your name, I want to know everything about you. Plus, my girl, Roxy, over there,” he said, indicating his recently abandoned guitar, “needs a new one.”

A look crossed her face he couldn’t identify, but the look he wanted to see was unbridled pleasure and if that was to happen, he needed to get to work.

With trembling hands, he caressed her breast through the thin layer of satin as he ravaged her mouth. The slide of the fabric over her hardening nipples under his fingers was a feeling he wouldn’t soon forget, not that he wanted to.

Ice queen, my ass
. She was so responsive, he was going up in flames. The thought of sliding into her with a silky friction not unlike that of the top sliding over her body threatened to bring him to his knees. As sexy as that outfit was, it needed to fucking go. NOW!

Revealing her body was a religious experience. It only took him about two seconds flat to drag the cami up her torso and over her head, but damned if it didn’t seem like a lifetime. Michael’s brain was registering the scene in slow motion. First, the sexy-as-Hell boy shorts covering the Heaven he glimpsed earlier. Then, a fucking six-pack that could make a man weak, highlighted by a cuter-than-fuck shallow belly button.

Unable to resist the lure of the tiny bowl, he dropped to his knees to swirl his tongue once or twice into its depth. Next, his eyes locked on her better-than-perfect rack. His tongue stilled as he drank in the darkened rings, centered with the juiciest nipples God ever created.

Abruptly, he rose and his lips were on them, suckling like there was no tomorrow. His mouth feasted on her body, while his soul feasted on her moans. When he spun her around and tossed her to the bed, it was with such speed, her hair flew out behind her like a beautiful coffee-colored banner.

The giggle that escaped her when she landed fell upon his ears and settled in his heart.
Two thirds my ass, I’m one hundred and ten percent gone.

T
he way
he was looking at her would be etched into her memory for eternity—like she was desirable, wanted, and loved. Tori couldn’t believe that someone like Michael could love her, especially not this quickly, but for tonight, and as long as it lasted, she could pretend. There was a tiny, hopeful, part of her that thought a look that genuine had to be real.

Her thoughts were silenced by his touch and his words. “God, Torionna. When I first kissed you, I believed that nothing in this world could taste so sweet, but then, I got a mouth full of your tits and realized how wrong I was.” He spoke against the skin of one breast while his hand did wicked things to the other. The vibration of his words added another layer of stimulation. It was almost too much to bear.

She reached down and fisted his hair, guiding him to her lips. Fuck if she wasn’t addicted to his kisses already. They were drugging and exhilarating, simply irresistible. As he dragged his lips along her jawline to her ear, his hand began to caress her through her underwear, but she might as well not have been wearing any as his hand seared her sensitive flesh.

“I want you so bad I can hardly wait, and by the feel of things, you want me, too.” He bit her earlobe, pulling a moan of pleasure from her while making his way down her body. Catching her boy shorts in his hand, he dragged them down and off her feet, tossing them aside.

Burying his nose in her pussy, he inhaled deeply. “Fuck, Princess, a man could come from that scent alone. The smell of you, aroused and ready to go, is fucking amazing.” Before she had a chance to nay say him, he dove in with his relentless tongue and exploring lips. He brought her to the edge of pleasure by adding a finger and speaking with his lips planted against her clit.

“Look at me, Tori. I want you to watch me feasting on your body. Tasting the sweetest juices in existence.” He licked her again while she raised her head and his words melted her heart. “It tastes like home, Tori, you taste like home. Now, I want you to come for me like a good girl.” The pace of his finger picked up as he added another. Tori was panting and chanting his name, so close to coming. Then, he sent her over the edge with a well-placed bite and a verbal command. “Now, Tori. And don’t look away or close your eyes, I want to see you explode on my tongue.”

“Fuuuuuuck, Michael,” was all she managed as far as coherent words go. The rest was a series of random sounds, grunts, moans and maybe a word fragment or two. If she hadn’t been focused on Michael’s face, she would have blacked out from pleasure. He grounded her somehow, even while he sent her soaring.

“That’s my girl. Now, flip over and let me look at that fabulous ass. Come on, I want that juicy ass in the air so I can bite it.” He made a snapping motion with his mouth as he hovered above her waist, elbows locked to hold him up. “Then, I’m going to pound that sweet pussy from behind until you come on my cock harder than you just came on my tongue.”

He lunged forward and dipped his head for a quick kiss, then spoke with his lips against hers. “Now, if you want to ride this fat cock, do as I say, and get on your knees and present me that beautiful ass.” After extending his arms and pushing himself back, he sat on his heels. That maneuver gave her the room she needed to comply.

Once on all fours, she tossed her head to the side and cast her eyes backward to look at him. His hands were kneading the globes of her ass, but it was the look on his face that separated her molecules and reformed them into the woman he saw. No man had ever looked at her that way, and it turned her on more than anything. Appreciating him, appreciating her, just a few seconds longer was all she could manage before going up in flames. Folding her arms, she rested her head on her hands.

With her face hidden, she felt comfortable to ask for what she wanted. “Michael, if you don’t hurry up and fuck me, I might have to dive out in the slushy lake to cool off.”

Tori knew she must have blushed twelve shades of red. Sure, she had a potty mouth and was liberal with the vocabulary enhancers, but she was never one to talk dirty or even take a commanding lead in the bedroom. Not that she’d never thought about it, but no other man had ever made her feel safe enough to do so.

Michael was different. She was starting to believe she could do or say anything and he wouldn’t laugh at her, instead, he would indulge her. Still, baby steps. She wasn’t brave enough to dive in headfirst.

“Your wish is my command, Princess, all you had to do was ask.”

“Ouch!” His teeth sunk into the flesh of her ample backside—not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to sting. Licking the bite, he chuckled and spoke.

“What? Have you seen this thing? You’re lucky I only took one bite. Besides, I warned you.” His hands tracked up her body, the gauze of the one a rough caress. She knew that he loomed in their wake.

As they reached her shoulders, he covered her back. One hand snaked around her body to pinch a nipple; she groaned into her fist. Michael’s other hand pulled her face around to his and nipped at the corner of her lips. Tori’s world view drew into a straw-sized tunnel vision that focused solely on them. The entirety of her existence was right here, right now. Never having surrendered to a moment and lived it to its fullest before, she was freed of some invisible anchor that weighed her down.

Feeling the head of his cock bumping her, begging entrance, almost sent her spiraling out of control again. The raw heat of him was delicious.

As lost to the passion as she was, she wasn’t too far gone not understand what that delicious heat meant. Of all the sensations flooding her body, one missing detail sent her into a panic. “Michael, wait. We can’t do this now. We don’t have any condoms, and with what recently happened,” she panted out. “We should wait until we get some or after you get tested you know? I’m sorry…”

“Shit, you’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it first, I should have, but we’re in luck.” Still covering her back, he kissed her shoulder and leaned to the side, rooting around the bedside table drawer. He produced a Costco-sized box of condoms. “I happen to be packing, in more ways than one.

Tori breathed a sigh of relief as Michael leaned back just enough to roll one on, before draping himself across her once again. She wasn’t sure she could survive if they had to stop now.

He nipped her ear and spoke. “Tell me you want me, Tori, me and no one else. Tell me this beautiful body is my very own instrument to make beautiful music with. Tell me you belong to me, the way I already belong to you.” He nudged her entrance to emphasize each request.

He pushed himself upright behind her, leaving goose bumps on her now-exposed back. His words stole the heart right from her chest, so maybe they were responsible for the prickled flesh, perhaps it was his smoking hot bod. Hell, a potent concoction of all three for all she knew. She didn’t really care what the primary cause was at this point she was too far-gone. “Yes.” She breathed. “Fuck, yes.”

“Tell me again,” he grated out as he entered her agonizingly slowly with just the delicious head of his cock. The next words were whispered and almost lost between their panting, “Tell me I’m home.”

With that whispered plea, he grasped her hip with one hand and drove into her in one swift stroke. She gasped at the exquisite intrusion and knew she was done for. With those heart-thieving words and the thrust of his body, he engraved his name deep into her bones. He flooded her bloodstream with his essence and reached inside her to touch her soul.

She was well and truly branded.